iKill Carly
by OMGitsSEDDIE
Summary: Sam tires of playing second banana to Carly's perfection. What would happen if she finally lost it? For all the people in the fandom who think that Carly Shay is just a little too perfect. Full summary inside, couldn't fit. RATED M.
1. Chapter 1

**iKill Carly**

**A series of journal entries and bits of real life drama that describe when Sam tires of playing second banana to Carly's perfection. What would happen if she finally lost it? For all the people in the fandom who think that Carly Shay is just a /little\ too perfect. Starts out fake Creddie, eventually Seddie, for all the Seddie lovers. Semi-crackfic.**

Chapter 1: iTurn My Sam On

Dear Diary,

You know that song, "Turn My Swag," by Soulja Boy? I prefer the Keri Hilson version, but tweak the lyrics, and it's basically the story of my life:

_Hop up out the bed; turn my Sam on; take a look in the mirror, say wassup! Yeah, I'm such a badass, ohhh!_

I'm an actress, and a marvelous one at that. This might sound conceited, but it's true: how else could I get everyone in Seattle and the viewers of iCarly AND my best friends to believe I'm a broke, meat-loving, butt-kicking, school-skipping dumb blonde when I'm really a certified genius who's a vegetarian, an heiress, a pacifist, and never truly misses a day of school. Let me take you behind my carefully constructed wall of lies...

My name is Samantha Puckett, and I am a liar.

I am the heiress to the well-hidden, llittle-known, heavily guarded Puckett fortune: my life is worth millions of dollars. When I first met Freddie--that's right, I met him first--I was Samantha, a well-mannered, polite little girl. I would never hurt a fly. We were the best of friends, so close that some people thought we must be siblings. Then _SHE _came.

On that fateful day, I lost my best friend, my crush, my _life, _to Carly Shay. On that day, my father was killed by an escaped prisoner who used to be his best friend.

He became obsessed with stealing his millions. Finally, he went too far -- he endangered his family. He tried to smother me and Melanie, my twin sister, while we were asleep in our cribs. He was sent to prison: life sentence with no chance of parole.

My life fell apart. My mother became an alcoholic, never noticing, or caring about me or Melanie's needs. We came to take refuge in our "friends" -- me, Carly and Freddie; Mel, Danny and Lauren. At school, I became Sam, the tough, badass girl who didn't take bullshit from anyone. At home, I stayed Samantha, for my family's sake. I wanted to create a wall to protect myself from getting hurt again, but it had to surrond my family, too.

I never let anyone come to my house. Melanie stayed the same, but she was part of the "we're poor and have a bad life" scheme, too. No friends over, lie about your home life, never let them see you cry....

When Carly Shay came into my life, she tore it from its roots and turned it upside down. The only one I could turn to for support was too busy drooling over the new girl to realize that his best friend was broken inside. Of course, I eventually forgave him, but I never let him forget it. I became mean, mocking. I always teased him, taunted him, insulted his manhood.

I also told him that no one would ever love him.

It broke his heart, many times, but it was obvious to see that Carly hated him, and all the poor little girls who loved Freddie were patiently waiting for the day when he would see the truth staring him straight in the eyes. That Carly would never love him. That there's someone else who loves him so much, it hurts. That that person is me.....

A year later, I got revenge on her in the best way I knew how: internal sabotage. I became her best friend, gathering info on her to use against her later. She would pay. Full price.

**********

Dear Diary,

I hate Carly. Intensely. With all my fuckin' heart, mind, and strength. I love Sam, but she hates me. Sad, isn't it?

She blackmailed me. That slut _blackmailed_ me.

For years, she held my secret above my head and made me hurt Sam feelings. I knew Sam was suffering, but I couldn't go to her, or else she would tell Sam. I don't even know how she found my secret out, and I don't really care. She's a motherfuckin' bitch, and that's it.

She devised this scheme in which I had to pretend to stalk her while she pretended to hate me and went off with other guys. I had to profess my "love" for her as often as possible, and be as convincing as possible. She also stole guys from Sam. They never really loved her anyway, but they never even gave her a chance. I sure would've.

I lost my virginity to her.

When we were alone, she'd say things like "I'm so horny, Freddie," or "Oh, I bet you have such a huge dick," things to get me to glare at her till she said "Fuck me, or I'll tell Sam first."

Eventually, Sam got meaner and meaner, with good reason, as I got more and more pathetic. Her life had cracked at the seams, and as her best friend, I had done nothing.

We used to be so close: we could tell each other anything. Now, the only time she pays attention to me is when we're arguing. She's the only person I've ever _wanted _to argue with, if only to her say my name.

If Carly died, my life would be so much better........

**********

Dear Diary,

She did it. She _motherfucking __**did **__it. _

I came over to Carly's house, like I do every day, and said hi to poor, unsuspecting Spencer. He's a good person with a bad little sister.

I walked upstairs to relax and practice before iCarly. I had gotten there early, so I had enough time. I figured Carly and Freddie were already there, so I decided to surprise them. I got to the studio and froze at the glass door.

Carly and Freddie were having sex on the floor. Thank whatever god there is that that room is soundproof.

I burst in like a madwoman, my face bearing the most rage-filled expression.

"Uh, Sam! I, uh..." He rushed to grab his clothes.

"Save it, Freddie." At least he had the decency to look ashamed. I turned towards the slut sitting next to him.

She smirked. "Hey, Sam."

Freddie glared at her. I just shook my head and walked out of the room. As soon as I was out of sight, I ran to the fire escape and cried my heart out.

Carly lied to me. She said she hated him. And Freddie.... Words couldn't describe how I felt.

I got up and stood on the edge of the balcony and looked out at the city. Seattle is such a beautiful city, but I think I need to leave.

I'll call Melanie. We'll leave at midnight.

**********

Dear Diary,

Carly pushed her limits. I forced myself to cope with her insanity, but today, she took it too far.

As soon as Sam left, Carly pecked my cheek, saying something like "Now, where we?"

I slapped her. "Go ahead: tell her. Tell everybody. Jail is better than being your slave. You're a needy, selfish, greedy bitch, and a total slut." I stood up and started to put my clothes, planning to go after Sam. Carly grabbed my ankle and pulled me down, an evil glint behind the seductive gaze in her eyes.

"You're not going anywhere, Fredward," she whispered, scarily calmly. All of a sudden she whipped out a switchblade from the pocket of her jeans that were lying next to her.

_Dear motherfucking God, she's lost it....._


	2. Chapter 2

**OMFG! *fangirl squeal* Wasn't iTwins awesome?!?!?!!! I just saw it tonight! Eastern time, baby! Poor west coast, lol. Thanks to Wikipedia, I found out Melanie's name before the first iTwins commercial aired. Anyone else think Nathan Kress looks WAY hotter when he's not wearing those dorky polos? Check my profile for more JeNathan (Nathanette?) madness!!! Btw, sorry for not being on for a while. what lurks beneath even sent me a PM! Yeah, school, graduation, drama camp, basically just LIFE has kept me M.I.A. I'm really sorry. You're so loyal! I don't deserve you!!!!! *sad sniffle* *perks up* Now for a bit of randomness:**

*****SEDDIEISMYLIFEEECARLYISAPERFECTBITCHINTHISSTORYLMAOSORANDOMSEDDIEEEEEE!!!!!!!!*****

**If you could read that, then congratulations!!! You can understand how fangirls, like me, sound when they talk about Seddie. If you couldn't, here's a translation: "Seddie is my LIFEEE! Carly is a perfect bitch in this story, lmao -- so random! SEDDIEEEEEE!!!!!!!!"**

**Enjoy!**

I flipped open my phone and pressed two. Three rings later, I hear Melanie speaking to someone in the background.

"Mel?"

"Sam? Is everthing all right?"

"Yeah, just dandy. But we might need to skip town for a few days...."

"Should I be worried?"

"No, I just need a break. If we hurry, we can catch the midnight flight to Daytona." Our aunt lives in Daytona Beach Shores, Florida. She loves it when we come to visit.

"Fine. Get home and start packing. I'll get our mail and schoolwork forwarded to Aunt Jennette's address. Are you sure everything's all right?"

I love the whole twin telepathy thing. "Fine, I'll tell you on the plane."

I could practically see her triumphant grin. "Okay. Bye, Sam."

"Seeya, Mel."

Dad trained us to always be ready to just pack up and leave in case of emergency. I miss him so much....

I hung up. I live kind of far away, so I ran to the bus stop, hoping to catch the next bus. I just made it in time. Thirty minutes later, I was at home, rapidly filling four suitcases with the necessities. Mom would be fine on her own, if we remembered to lock the wine cabinet, that is.

I grabbed our cash cards from the jewlery box and stuffed them in my pocket. Then, I ran to fill our carry-on bags with toiletries, books, travel chargers, and snacks. I threw some t-shirts, jeans, shorts, light hoodies and undergarments into each of our suitcases. I grabbed my netbook and bought some tickets. Then I printed them out and threw our netbooks in the carry-on bags.

After I finished packing, Melanie texted me, saying she was almost done at the post office. I said I was done packing, then I sat down, trying to figure out how to explain this situation to my poor sister, who had no idea what was going on but agreed with my plans anyway.

I'm so lucky to have a sister as understanding as her.

Okay, mushy movement over. Back to work.

I knew when Freddie was done with his "girlfriend" -- even just thinking the word sickens me -- he would come after me. I wrote a note and taped it on my bedroom door. He's the only one, outside of my family, with a key.

I dragged the suitcases outside and texted Melanie:

**meet me at the house in 5. Got ur suitcase. Luv ya, S.**

Five minutes later, I was in a taxi with my sister, ready to escape the madness in Florida.

I was going to a sunny state for a few days of sand and surf with my favorite aunt and lovable sister. I would be as far away from Carly as I could get. I would be safe from harm. It was perfect.

If it was perfect, why wasn't I happy?

**********

Carly's always been nice to Sam. She had to have been, or else I would've killed her, and she knows it. Today, she snapped. One second, we were rehearsing, the next, she's throwing me on the floor, unzipping my pants, saying I "spend too much time with that slut, Sam." I'm thinking that she's the REAL slut, and that I don't spend ENOUGH time with Sam.

A half hour later, and Sam bursts in, glowering at us. After the inevitable showdown, Carly whips out a switchblade.

She slides the blade down my cheek slowly, almost lovingly, leaving a thin red line.

"I don't care about Sam. I don't want you going after her. You will do as I say because I am your master," she hisses in an irritatingly calm voice. She pulls out a whip from behind a cabinet. "Now, go sit on the car."

I back up, slowly making my way toward the car. She was scaring me. She yanked some cords from my A/V cart.

She crawled over, then sat up on her knees, staring seductively at me. She slid down my zipper and started to unbutton my boxers, then tied me down to the car. I prayed that Spencer would come in and control his sister.

**********

On the flight, I started to explain things to Melanie. She cried. For me. Apparently, she knows me so well, she already knew about my crush on Freddie and guessed that this had to do with him.

I love this girl to DEATH.

Eventually, I fell asleep. The events of the day had taken their toll on me: I was exhausted. I dreamed of Florida: the sun, the beaches, the people. Then, I dreamed of Freddie.

We were dancining at a house party, winding and grinding, doing things we'd never do for random dancing. He looked at me, giving me a small smile, and pointed his head toward the stairs, eyeing me questioningly. I answered by walking to the first step and winking. He followed.

I woke up to Melanie's voice. "C'mon, kid -- it's showtime."

**********

She wrapped her mouth around my dick, making me cringe, then moan with reluctant pleasure. She forced my length down her throat, gagging after about six inches. I let out a strangle yell and thought about how easy it'd be to just give in and forget about Sam. But I could never forget about Sam.

I had to distract her somehow.

"Oh, shit! It's Spencer!" I yelled, making her turn around. I butt-hopped off the car and awkwardly stood up, trying to get to the wall that still had the hammer in it from Spencer's hammer fan incident. I grabbed the hammer with my teeth and flung it at her head. She dropped to the ground, unconscious. I struggled out of the ropes and tied her up. I checked for blood and let out a sigh of relief. No cleanup.

Now, it's funtime....

I flipped her over and whipped her ass until it was covered in painful red welts. Then I spanked her, knowing she would wake up in a lot of pain. I flipped her again and grabbed some mini binder clips, grinning evily: revenge was sweet. I bit her nipples, hard, and put clips on them. I put one on her clit, then grabbed her socks and stuffed them in her mouth. I put duct tape on her mouth and tied a cloth gag over that, then I blindfolded her. I thought about putting a binder clip on her nose, but I had a better idea. I put her in a large, black garbage bag and grabbed the vacuum. I sucked as much air as posible out of it and tied it up. I felt absolutely guiltless till I remembered something: Spencer. I had to explain this to him....

I found a stack of lined Stick-It notes and wrote a note.

_Dear Spencer,_

_I'm sorry I had to do this, but your sister is evil. Call me once you see this, and I'll explain. DON'T untie her or call the cops until after I finsh explaining. Even if she wakes up._

_-Freddie_

I ran out of the apartment and called a cab.

**********

We got off the plane and walked through the tube, expecting to be met with a bustling high-security airport, like the ones in big cities. Instead, we were greeted by a serene, coral-colored airport that had very few people and even fewer guards.

"I think I'm gonna like it here," Melanie said, quoting a line from one of our favorite movie musicals. **(A/N: Points to whoever knows which movie that's from!)**

We went to the baggage claim, suprised by how large, yet easy to navigate, the place was.

I called Aunt Jennette, the only person I knew who'd be up at five a.m.

"Hello?"

"Aunt Jennette?"

"Sammy, baby, is that you? How's Melanie? Is everything alright? You sound tired!"

"Yeah, Aunty J, just fine! We're in town, and --"

"I'll get the minivan." Click.

Gotta love her.

Twenty minutes later, she's here. Since its impossible to get here that fast from her condo, she was either very close by, or, most likely, she drove at unnatural speeds and broke nearly every traffic law to get here.

We ran out to the minivan as she came out. She beamed.

"Welcome to Daytona," she said, squeezing us tightly.

*****(New POV)*****

Why is my baby sister tied up in a garbage bag looking like the star of one of those BDSM pornos?

Why did Freddie say she was evil?

Why did Freddie do this?

Why do I have the urge to savagely rape my baby sister, even though I have no sexual interest in her, and I know it's incest?

Why am I asking you all these questions when I can get the answers to them from Freddie? Except, maybe not the last one....

I picked up the phone and dialed Fredward.

"Spencer."

"Fredward."

"Want me to explain?"

"No, I want you to make me a peanut butter sandwich with cheese."

"Um, ew. You're strange."

"I know. Now, explain."

After he hung up, I sank to the floor, mind heavy with guilt and unwanted information.

I can't believe poor Sam and Freddie have been dealing with my scheming little bitch of a sister for almost ten years.

I glared down at my sleeping sister. The urge came back, and I smirked, unzipping my pants.

I slapped her face and yanked off the blindfold. She woke up with an alarmed look on her face. She tried to speak but gagged instead, so I slapped her again and removed her gags.

"Spencer! What's going on?!"

"You're gonna get your just desserts, bitch."

"Spencer? Spencer!"

I shoved my dick in her mouth. She gagged.

"Shut up and suck it."

I'd regret this later, but I was all for living in the moment.

There was a whip on the ground. I picked it up and lashed her ass till tears streamed down her face.

"You. Will. Pay. For. This," I yelled, whipping her with each word.

She was choking and sobbing, but that just made me want to hurt her more. She didn't deserve to cry. She was the reason for everyone's pain! She deserved to feel pain. She deserved to die.

I picked up the switchblade and stabbed the slut's arm. She screamed, and the vibrations pushed me over the edge.

She choked, and a fresh stream of tears fell.

"Shut up and swallow, bitch!"

I grabbed her ass and flipped her over, pulling her up on all fours. I started spanking her, making her scream and cry. Her fear aroused me, and I pinched her nipples, foregoing my other plan and flipping her over to bite and lick her nipples. I stuck my fingers into her folds, fisting her forcefully, making her squeal and moan in reluctant arousal. She screamed and shuddered as a violent orgasm overtook her and moaned as my tounge plunged into her depths. I replaced my tounge with my aching cock, throbbing with need. She looked at me, a fearful look in her eye, and for a second, I saw my baby sister: the little girl who would never hurt a fly. Then, I saw the passionate lust in her eyes, and with it, the needy whore waiting for me to fuck her, not caring that I was her brother.

I thrusted my length into her hole. She screamed. I laughed.

**********

"Freddie?"

"Hey, Spencer! You ok? You don't sound so good."

"I'm fine... Just don't come over for a while. I need to take a long shower."

"Okay. Sam's in Florida."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she's with her aunt."

"Well, as long as she's with family --"

"I'm going after her."

"..."

"Hello?"

"Good luck, kiddo."

"Thanks, Spence. Is someone crying? I hear someone in the background."

"BYE!!" Click.

He did something bad to Carly. I should be worried. I should be disgusted. Yet, all I feel is hatred towards the little slut.

**Okay, so everyone's really OOC, and really harsh towards Carly. But I don't hate Carly, I'm just sick of her perfection and wanted to do a sort of crackfic in which Freddie and Sam, and later Spencer, hate her. I also wanted it to be a bondage erotica. Sick teenage mind! Yaaaay!!!!**

**Oh, and disclaimer: Dan would never write something this twisted. iCarly is not mine. But, I wish Nathan Kress was. ;D**

**In other news, I may or may not continue iLove Switzerland, but I do have a story that I finished the first chapter of and lost interest in. If anyone's interested in continuing it, PM me! Oh, and if you want to finish iLove Switzerland, take it. It bores me. Lol.**

**~Blessing =D**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Samantha's Pen**_**'s review made me cry tears of joy! JOY, I TELL YOU!!!!! And yes, Freddie will eventually tell his secret, probably when he apologizes to Sam.**

**OR, WILL HE?!?!**

**Lol, I should recategorize this under Suspense.**

**Haters can suck horsecock, jump off a cliff, or jump of a cliff WHILE sucking horsecock! I mean, this story isn't supposed to be normal! I love Seddie stories, but I wanted to write from a more twisted angle, more of an alternate universe. And besides, you're talking about a fourteen-year-old girl who earned the nickname *Spazzles McDazzles:* The Wrong Kind of Special. What'd you expect?! **

**I'll try to remain in good humor (I don't REALLY want you to suck off a horse or go flying off the edge of the earth), but no flames, or I WILL open up a can of WhoopAss on you. AND, I am NOT about to dumb this story down. Any attempts to get me to tone it down will be ignored.**

**Enjoy! *note the dripping sarcasm, haters....***

"We're here!" Aunty J sang as we passed a sign saying "Welcome to Daytona Beach Shores!" I had dozed off again, but Aunt Jennette's cheerful words woke me up with a start.

Melanie cheered, and I made a grunting noise.

"Aw, what's the matter, Sammy? Is someone tired? Maybe some _pancakes_ will wake you up," Aunt Jennette chirped as we pulled into the parking lot of the world's greatest restaurant: IHOP.

Just the thought of seven different types of syrup got me drooling! Hey, I may be a vegetarian, but I still love to eat!

After breakfast, which included Mel and I getting into a mini-foodfight and nearly getting kicked out (I slapped her with a pancake, she squirted me with syrup and bit me... Same old, same old), we hopped in the car and headed to Oceans Boulevard, or as I like to call it, "Tourist Road." The street is loaded with nothing but hotels, except for a sprinkle of tourist trap t-shirt stores and many condos farther down the road.

Finally, we arrived at number three Oceans Boulevard, the condo our aunt lives in. The car went up the spiral till we reached the garage for the sixth floor. I got my lazy butt out of the car and dragged Melanie out. Aunt Jennette hopped out, chipper as ever, and we walked toward apartment C.

----------

I was in the room that I shared with Melanie, trying to figure out what to say to Freddie.

Melanie said to be kind and forgiving; I mean, after all, I still did love the guy, and he hadn't known I'd walk in on their... fun. Eventually, I just decided to skip the apology and go straight to the answers. No bias, no bluffing, no bullshit. I would meet him somewhere public, but private enough to speak freely.

Then, my PearPhone started blaring my custom-made ringtone: Jennette McCurdy's So Close. How fitting.

_It's showtime, kiddo...._

**********

I pushed my way through the crowd of sweaty anxious people and made it to the front of the plane. Other than my carryon, I only had one bag. Once I got out of the plane, I rushed into the airport and dialed Sam.

"Freddie." Her voice was monotonous, as if she knew this was coming and had rehearsed.

"Sam," I said, trying to keep my voice as emotionlessly level as hers. I didn't have time to rehearse.

"You wanna talk, right?"

"Yeah. Listen, I'm so sorry that--"

"Meet me at the minigolf place we went to last year."

Click.

----------

I pulled up in front of Captain Jack's Mini Putt-Putt Palace, scanning the place for blond, curly hair and a bit of attitude.

I saw her, at the seventeenth hole. She must've wanted a nice, quiet place to talk: no one ever got that far at this place because the hole was so hard. But Sam had Skillz. Not just skills. I mean Skillz. Mad Skillz.

I went up to the counter to address the shady-looking manager whose name was (surprise, surprise!) Jack.

"Hi, I'm looking for--"

"Seventeenth hole. And good luck, kid. She's a feisty one." Sounds like Sam didn't have the patience to play through today.

"Don't I hafta pay or something?"

"It's a twofer. Go nuts."

He winked and handed me a club.

*****(New POV)*****

_I'm scared. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before._

_He_ raped_ me. The only person I've ever trusted raped me!_

I started to panic. _Calm down, Carly! Remember what Dr. Pavlov said: Another panic attack, and I go back on the meds._

I shuddered. The awful meds -- the ones that took away the voices that tell me how pretty I am and force me to do better when I screw up. Without those voices, I just floated on the edge of insanity, doing whatever seemed easier.

When I stopped taking the meds, the voices came back, telling me how ugly I looked so I would know to change my hair and clothes. They called me fat, so I ate nothing but saltines and water. They told me I was a dirty, filthy slut, so I would scrub myself clean in showers that were hours long. Then they said I didn't take control of my life, that I was a pushover. So I took control of someone else's. Freddie's.

I don't get why everyone wants my voices to go away; they've done nothing wrong. I mean, they're just telling me how to improve my life....

Right?

**********

I gave one last dry heave and pushed myself away from the toilet. I don't remember when I started vomiting, but by the time I'd finished, it was nine a.m.

I dragged myself to the counter and gargled some Spitsterine, hoping to rinse the taste of bile of my tounge. Socko had come over last night with some friends and some alcohol. I couldn't tell them what I'd done, so I put Carly in her room, locked the door, cleaned the studio, and let them in.

Hours later, I ended up in the bathroom, puking my brains out.

----------

Carly was rocking back and forth, whispering to herself. I called her name, and she looked up at me with unseeing eyes. She wasn't really here. Not mentally.

I got my keys, grabbed the helmets, and called the doctor's office.

It was time to see Dr. Pavlov.

**********

"Sam, I'm -- "

"Yeah, yeah. You're sorry. Boohoo, big sob story, la-di-freakin'-da. I get that you're sorry, just tell me WHY you did it! I know you love Carly, but I thought you were better than that. I thought you were stronger." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I thought you cared," she whispered. My heart broke. I took a deep breath, getting ready to tell her everything.

"Fredward James Benson, WHAT in God's NAME are you doing at this filthy establishment!!! Why aren't you at home? Why did you steal my credit card? Why are you in FLORIDA?!"

Sigh. Mother.

***ILIVEFORCONTROVERSY***

***IKILLPETSFORPLEASURE***

***ILAUGHATYOURPAIN***

**Lol, emo fangirl.**

**Next chapter has way more Seddie! Take THAT, Creddie lovers!!!!**

**Sorry for the cliffhanger. And the short chapter. Sorry for the long wait, too. Writers' block is a bitch. So is volleyball camp. That's NOT my sport. At ALL.**

**Note: Sam isn't all sweet and innocent, but she's not a total badass, either. Melanie is the sweeter one, and Sam's more inbetween, but she has a bit of an attitude and isn't afraid to play up her badassness when needed. She's less stereotyped than she thinks, and Freddie knows that she's just a normal person who's hiding behind the walls she built up around herself. Carly, on the other hand, could care less about Sam's inner self because her anxiety disorder's driving her up the wall and making her paranoid, rash, and not able to make good decisions for herself and others.**

**Just a little depth into the characters in this story. More on Freddie in the next chapter. Hooray for character sketches!**

**Okay, TTFN!**

**~Blessing :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Once again, haters = can of WhoopAss. And I ain't talkin' bout the energy drink.**

**"BTW, that stuff is some mad dope shit! I'm high as fudge and easy like Sunday moooorning!" (*step step, wobble wobble, plops facedown on floor*)**

***Voice is muffled by carpet:* Sunday, BITCHEZZZZ! *Raises head:* "BELCH!" *Passes out***

**That was my cousin, who's reading behind me. I just HAD to let you know what was happening. Never let your hyperactive cousin have four WhoopAss energy drinks, snort ten pixie sticks, then wash them down with sugar and gummy worms... Das sum kuhrazzee shit, nigga.........**

**But I digress. And ramble.**

**Anyway, I purposely waited till today to upload: it's my friend's and my Godmother's birthday! Yay, double birthdays!!!!!**

**Happy August!**

"You stole your mom's credit card?" she said, smirking, yet with a hint of admiration in her voice.

"Plane tickets aren't cheap, you know! Besides, on my allowance, do you really think I could afford them?"

"Oh, come on, Freddison, eight bucks gets you... absolutely nothing these days." She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

"Thank you for your unbridled optimism, Miss Puckett. Now, if we could focus on the crisis at hand, then we'd be getting somewhere," I said, pointing to the raging psychopath I called my mother climbing out of her rental car, which looked eerily similar to mine. I think I inherited her fashion sense. *Shudder.*

"Split up! She can't catch us both!" she yelled as she took off towards the restrooms, the skeeviest, most disgusting ones I've ever seen.

The girl's a genius.

Let me tell you one thing about my mother: she can run. Fast. And if she's determined enough, there's no way in HELL to shake her. Unless... I grinned at the thought. It was an evil plan, but at least it was legal. I think. I didn't tell Sam. Sam gets me: she'll figure it out.

I threw our golf clubs at her, then ran into the men's room and watched as Sam climbed through the vent, landing on the floor just as my screwy mother reached the women's restroom. Best friend telepathy at its finest.

I screwed the bolts from the ladies' room vent on this vent with the mini-screwdriver on my key ring. I looked at Sam, a question in my eyes.

Sam nodded and ran to the front desk. She came back with the bathroom key in her hand, and a suggestive look on her face. I grinned.

"May I?"

She grinned back. "I'd be insulted if you didn't!"

We locked my mom in the bathroom, ran outside, and hopped in the rental car, still giddy from our narrow escape.

"Sam..."

"Yeah?"

"I..." I could tell her now. But her face was still flushed and her eyes were still sparkling from the adventure. I didn't wanna crash her mood. "...can't believe we just did that!"

She laughed. "Neither can I, Benson. Neither can I."

**********

I sang each station jingle in my head as I flicked to a station.

_Kiss 108!_

"_Bum-bum-bee-dum-bum-dum-bee-dum --" _Click!

_Mix 98.5!_

"_Maiahee! Maiahoo! Maiaha! Maiaha –" _Click!

_Radio Disney, AM 1260!_

"_I know a song that gets on everybody's –" _Click!

_Jam'n 94.5!_

"_If you could, you would get rid of me! Whatcha gonna do when a n***** gotta go hard -- ?" _Click!

_Magic 106.7!_

"_Help! I need somebody! Help!" _Click!

_Oldies 103.3!_

"_Girls just... Wanna have fun! Girls... Wanna have -- " _Click!

Why must the radio mock me? All but two of these songs remind me of last night. The others are just annoying.

I glanced back at Carly in my sideview mirror. She was half-asleep. I don't know how she was still hanging onto me in her state. She was so innocent looking....

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and focused on the road.

Twenty minutes later, and we were checking in at the front office. Dr. Pavlov wasn't here today, but I didn't tell Carly that.

Today, she was gonna see a doctor who would put her out of her misery. In a good way. At least, that's what she said...

Heh heh. That's what she said. Along with "If you know what I mean," it's a phrase that makes anything sound dirty...

But I digress!!

"Carly Shay?" The perky nurse pered around the waiting room

We walked into the office.

**********

"So... What's the secret, Benson? It can't be that bad..."

We were at the beach. Twenty minutes of aimless driving and endless giggle-snorting had landed us here. Sam, being Sam, already had a striped pink and white bikini on under her hot pink short shorts and orange tank top. I, on the other hand, had to go digging through my suitcase in the trunk for some board shorts. Then, I had to change in the car. Awkwardness ensued. 'Nuff said.

Somehow, we ended up practicing our volleyball passes with a ball we found in the beach grass, making perfect passes back and forth while I apologized and confessed. Until I dropped the bomb.

"I killed my father."

Sam shanked the ball and dropped to her knees, not caring that the ball had just K.O.'ed a five-year-old.

She looked up, a shocked, expectant look on her face.

I continued, the flashback already appearing in my mind....

_----------_

"_Daddy! You're home!" Freddie ran to the door. His father, a police officer, had just come back from a particularly difficult shift. _

"_Hey, bud. We can play a game after I go change, okay?"_

"'_Kay, Daddy!" Mr. Benson dropped his gun on the table and trudged upstairs._

_Freddie's eyes gravitated toward the weapon. _Is that the new toy Daddy promised to get me?_ He decided to find out._

_Mr. Benson remembered he left his gun on the table and came back downstairs in time to see his only son point the gun at him, preparing to cock the hammer._

"_Freddie, NO! That's my – !!" _**Bang.**

_Mrs. Benson ran into the kitchen, only to be greeted by her husband's cold, dead body in a pool of warm, sticky blood, and the heart-wrenching tears of a six-year-old child. _

_----------_

Sam was sitting cross-legged in the sand by now, languidly drawing swirls in the sand. Her energy was drained from helping me bear the weight of my guilt.

I wanted to make her feel better so badly. I brushed some dirt off the spare volleyball.

"Lie down, Sam."

"Why?" she replied, eyeing the volleyball warily.

"Just do it! I swear I won't kill you." Dark humor. Heh heh.

She complied. I rolled the volleyball around on her back, something we had done at volleyball camp to relieve stress.

She moaned, and I blushed. That one little sigh spoke volumes, and nothing it said was under PG-13.

I stood up.

She groaned. "I was enjoying that, Freddork!"

I smirked. "I could tell."

Sam blushed. "Oh. You heard that, didn't you?"

I stepped closer. "I have something to say to you, Sam."

She walked up to me, boldly closing the distance between us. "And what would that be, Mister Benson?"

I took a deep breath. "I love you."

She slapped me. "There is no way on EARTH that I would EVER fall in love with a nerd like Freddie Benson!"

I frowned. Sam was never be that cruel to me before.

"Lust, on the other hand, is a definite possibility." She smiled and kissed my cheek.

I pretended to sigh. "Why do I always get the crazy ones?"

She tackled me to the ground, and her voice purred seductively in my ear.

"I'll show you crazy."

*****(3rd Person)*****

Little Johnny Connors woke up, dazed and confused, just as the sun was beginning to set. He saw the ball next to his head and instantly became as pissed as humanly possible for a kindergartener, remembering what had transpired. He grabbed the ball, intending to give those rude teenagers a piece of his mind, and marched toward the little valley where the net was.

He looked down and immediately threw up and passed out.

Poor little Johnny was scarred for life.

----------

Melanie smirked and popped out of the shadows, looking excitedly at her PearPhone.

"I knew it was a good idea to follow them! This is going straight to iCarly! And Seddie 2ya... And my blog..."

She watched as the poor five-year-old threw up.

"_With_ some minor editing, of course....."

**********

I don't like Dr. Yensa. She creeps me out.

"Hello, Carly. We're gonna help you with your little problem, okay?" She looked at me as if I were an ant under a magnifying glass.

"You're not gonna try to get rid of the voices, are you?" I panicked. "I NEED the voices! They're my friends! They tell me what to do and they help me and they keep me safe and they made me love Freddie and..." I kept rambling as the panic consumed me, making my voice rise to a shriek.

"Nurse! Sedate her!"

I screamed and tried to run away, scrambling to the door to escape my fate. I made it to the front desk before I felt a pinprick in my side. The world went hazy.

Spencer and Dr. Yensa looked down at me with concern and regret. "It's for the best, Carly!" Spencer said, his voice slowly fading. "It's for the best."

I tried to reply, but before I could, the world fell away.

Everything went black.

*****(New POV)*****

_That's the last time I ever give Freddie the chance to talk to a girl. Friends only cause trouble! They're bad influences. The only "friend" he needs is his mother._

I sighed inwardly, then took a deep breath.

"FREDWARD!!!!!!!!!!"

**See? I did learn things at volleyball camp! Although, the ball massage (get your mind out of the gutter, it was a volleyball!!) was extremely awkward since I had a male partner. I threw that in for kicks.**

**By the way, the radio stations are all Boston stations. Anyone who guesses the names and artists of the songs on the radio gets 1,000 points! But here, it's like **_**Whose Line**_**: the points don't matter. Just like you!**

**Kidding! I love you all dearly! Now get out.**

**Freddie is such a badass, stealing his mom's credit card! Yeah, that's just the way he rolls....**

**(Twenty extra points for the name of the band that sings this song!!!! Man, I'm on a ROLL!!!)**

**Oh, and five reviews, or no update! I already wrote the epilogue, too. I'm just being evil/greedy. MuahahahahahahahahaHA!!!!**

**Luv ya, dahlings!!!**

**~Blessing ;-)**

**P.S.: CHECK MY PROFILE FOR A _VERY IMPORTANT _update!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And, yes, it does involve/concern you, lovely readers.**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Epilogue**_

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

We entered the mental hospital and asked the nurse to see Shay, Carly. The nurse commented on how well she was recooperating and told us she was on the third floor, room 383.

Melanie had decided to stay home. Mental hospitals scared her, ever since the day when we visited J'MaMaw after her mental breakdown.... Freaky stuff, man.

"Hey, Carly."

"Hey, Sam. Freddie." She looked embarrassed. "Guess you heard about my little nervous breakdown..."

"Yeah. But you look good so far."

"Thanks. How was Florida?" Freddie and I shared a look. He nodded.

"It was fun. I got a new boyfriend."

"Good for you! Can I meet him?"

"Okay," I said, awkwardly bringing Freddie closer to the bed.

Carly froze. Then her head slackened and hit the pillow.

Shit. I killed Carly.

"NURSE!" Freddie ran down the hall, yelling for help.

_Holy shitcakes! Holy shitacus! Holy shitmajigglers!_ _Heh heh. Shitmajigglers. Look at me, getting all creative with my cursing._

"Hey, guys! You'll never guess what I found in my -- " Spencer looked around. "Where's Freddie, and OHMYGODWHATDIDYOUDOTOCARLY?!?!?!"

Holy shit buckets, shit sticks, and shit pies with two shit shakes and a side of shit biscuits.

"Um, lemme explain... I -- "

Freddie burst in with the nurse in tow.

"What happened?! Did someone scare her?! Does anyone want a waffle?!" She whipped a stick full of immpaled waffles out of nowhere. Spencer and I looked at her questioningly. "What? They're half off!"

"She's T-Bo's sister," Freddie elaborated. Ah. Small world.

We all crowded around the bed.

All of a sudden, Carly sat up, screaming "BOO!!!" as loudly as humanly possible.

We all went flying.

She gave us a small, devious smile. "Gotcha."

----------

Hours later, we're in Freddie's apartment, hanging out, eatin' meatless ham, and watching T.V., and I get the unshakable feeling that we're forgetting something; I just can't remember what it is.

Oh, well. If I can't remember, it couldnt have been that important....

Right?

*****(3rd Person)*****

"Freddie? Freddie?! Come on, be a good boy and let Mommy out! Please? Freddie? Freddie?! FREDDIE?!?!?!?!!!!!!"

Marrissa Benson sighed and slumped to the floor of the bathroom. Then she cringed: something had just scuttled over her hand and darted into the corner.

"FREEEEEDDIIIIIIIIIIEEEE?!?!?!!!!!!!!!!"

**********

Sam's in my apartment, eating all the meatless ham, happy as a clam. Carly's in rehab, rehabilitating. Spencer's in his apartment, sculpting. It's been a crazy couple of weeks for all of us, and I'm happy it's all over.

I put my arm around Sam's shoulders and kissed her cheek. She smiled back at me and kissed my lips.

Three hours later, we're sweaty, naked, and in need of a new carpet.

Heh heh. Oops.

*****(3rd Person)*****

Spencer decided to walk in and check on the new lovebirds. He grabbed a plate of cubed fruit and headed over.

Seeing as he never needed to knock before, he just waltzed right in.

He froze at the doorway, dropped the fruit, and ran right out, screaming something about needing bleach for his eyes. They didn't even notice. Poor Mister Toilet Bowl had an unpleasant meeting with Spencer that day.

Another person mentally scarred for life, courtesy of Sam and Freddie.

_Sam and Freddie: Scarring the World, One Person at a Time._

_**End.**_

**That was fun! Thank you guys for all the support! Seriously, you guys are lifesavers. But you don't taste like candy. Do you?!**

**I'm tired. It's late. Goodnight.**

**Story's Disclaimer: If I owned iCarly, it'd be shit on a stick instead of the awesomeness that Dan Schnieder created. SHIT ON A STICK, I TELL YOU!!!!!!**


End file.
